One day at the end of May when she and her daughter were walking in the summer gardens, they noticed that all the shrubs were covered only with buds. Taking a long walk round the gardens and returning to the same place, they found all the buds had burst into leaf.
The cold of the long winters she found, as every one says, much more supportable than in other countries whilst indoors, the heating of the houses being so perfect. And sledging parties were added to the other amusements of her life.
The hot weather she used to spend at some house she took or had lent to her in the country near St. Petersburg.
One Sunday in October, 1796, Lisette went, after mass, to the palace to present the portrait she had just finished of the Grand Duchess Elizabeth.
After expressing her satisfaction, the Empress said—
“They are absolutely resolved that you shall do my portrait. I am very old, but still, as they all wish it, I will give you the first sitting this day week.”
The following Thursday morning the Empress did not ring as usual at nine o’clock. They waited till after ten, and then the first femme de chambre went in and found her lying on the floor struck by apoplexy.
Lisette was at home with her daughter, who was just recovering from an illness, when the news was brought to her.
Filled with alarm and sorrow, she hurried to the Princess Dolgorouki, where Count Cobentzel brought them constant news from the palace, where desperate but fruitless efforts were being made to revive the Empress.
Everywhere was nothing but consternation, grief, and alarm; for all ranks and classes not only adored Catherine, but were terrified at the advent of Paul.